


The Struggle with Stasis

by JazzRaft



Series: Dark at Night [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 17:58:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9914309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/pseuds/JazzRaft
Summary: “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”Noctis over-does it in warp training. The failure knocks him straight back into the arms of his knight in stylish black armor.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [tumblr](http://jazzraft.tumblr.com/post/156563219772/nyxnoct-38-thank-you-for-all-your-writing) for #38 in [this prompt post.](http://jazzraft.tumblr.com/post/156511645930/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you)

“You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

Confusion followed by panic followed by horror rolled in succession throughout Noctis’s chest as the world came back into focus. Confusion for how he’d been vertical one second ago and horizontal the next. Panic for wondering if he’d been mortally wounded to end up this way – had he been shot, poisoned, both? Horror for when he realized what the glaive over him had said.

“Are you _kidding_ me?”

The man smiled, and it might have been the delirium that did it, but for some reason Noctis caught himself thinking that, of all the things to come out of unconsciousness to, that smile was really nice.

“Well, it’s better than the alternative, right?”

“If the alternative is _not_ fainting then, no, it’s not better.”

“Mm, yup, you must be fine. And here I was about to call down the whole medical wing.”

Mortification flared up into Noctis’s cheeks just imagining the social trauma such an event would incur. The Crown Prince of Lucis fallen into the arms of a tall, dark stranger like a swooning old-fashioned movie actress. By the Six, he could see the headlines now.

The glaive’s laughter brought Noctis back into the present, and only made him blush darker in embarrassment. He hurried to remove himself from the man’s arms and regain some sense of princely composure that he could lord over him, but when he tried to stand up, a wave of dizziness overtook him. The glaive guided him back down to the floor before he stumbled and ended up their again himself.

“Not so fast, little king. You’ll live, but you need to take a sec and wait for it to pass.”

“What happened?”

“You were going at it pretty hard out there,” the glaive said, jerking his head out at the training field. “Over-used your warp and went into stasis.”

“Seriously?”

“Don’t beat yourself up,” the glaive chuckled, gently nudging a fist into Noctis’s shoulder. “Happens to the best of us. Besides, could’ve been worse. You couldn’t have collapsed into the open arms of your dashing hero.”

He winked at him and Noctis rolled his eyes, wincing when that made his skull feel sore. He rested his head in his hand, squeezing his eyes shut while he waited for the dizziness to pass.

“Who are you again?” he mumbled.

“Ouch! So my reputation doesn’t precede me after all, huh? That’s one bet I was hoping to win, too.”

Noctis glanced at him, at a loss for what the hell he was saying. The glaive smirked and put a finger to his lips.

“Confidential Kingsglaive betting pool,” he whispered. “Eyes for members only. Not even the king-to-be gets to know.”

“Do you ever stop talking?” Noctis groaned, closing his eyes against a particularly sharp throb that sprouted up behind them.

“Gotta do something to keep you awake,” he replied, unfazed by the prince’s otherwise rude interjection.

“Yeah, ‘cause who can sleep when their head feels like it’s gonna explode.”

Noctis grunted against another pulse of pain, drawing a knee up and dropping his head against it when he felt his fingers starting to feel fuzzy. “Shit.”

“Hurt like a bitch?”

“A bit more than a bitch.”

“It’ll pass…”

“You keep saying that,” Noctis laughed, weakly.

“And you know it’s true.”

“Yeah, I know,” he sighed, curling an arm around his leg and waiting for the rolls of pain to cease.

The glaive was quiet for a moment, and for some reason, that didn’t help the pulsing migraine go away any faster like Noctis had hoped. Past the fog of fuzzy agony in his skull, Noctis realized then that the glaive might have been talking so much to distract him from how much it hurt more than to keep him awake. He immediately regretted insulting him for it.

“Why were you pushing yourself so hard?” the man asked, thank the Six.

“Dunno. Just a shitty day, I guess.”

“Lots of those lately, huh?”

Noctis took a deep breath to ride out the next pulse before chancing a glance at the glaive. Suspicion was strong enough to worm its way past the pain. He didn’t even need to ask before the glaive sighed and confessed.

“Your father’s been concerned about you. Asked me to keep an eye on you for the past couple of days.”

“That right?” Noctis laughed, coldly. “I’ll scream at him later…” – as he said that, another wave passed – “…Maybe.”

“Can’t scream at him for being right, now, can you?” he said, a touch of defensiveness coloring his cool tone.

“You can stop talking again,” Noctis hissed, biting down a noise of hurt that he hadn’t meant to make.

“It should be over soon,” he told him, softer this time.

Noctis barely nodded to let him know he heard him, his tongue feeling too heavy in his mouth to form words. This was the worst part, and once it passed, it was a slow lull back down to normal. Noctis tried to focus on breathing when the glaive ran dry on things to say. Another minute or two that felt like an hour or two (or three) and the pain finally subsided, ceding back into whatever punishing void it had crawled out of.

Noctis lifted his head, slowly, testing. When the world didn’t turn upside-down, he figured that meant he was safe. He looked at the glaive, finding him watching intently, looking for his own clues to assure him that his charge was alright.

“Sorry I didn’t have an ether on me,” he said, unfolding from his crouch back onto his feet. “Would have made that go by a lot quicker. You good?”

He extended a hand down to Noctis, the prince considering it for a moment before tentatively taking it and letting himself be helped back to his feet. The knight was oddly gentle, considering his rough exterior. Now that Noctis could see past the pain, he could get a better look at him. Square-faced, strong-jawed, stubbly skin, dark ashen hair, and a hard, piercing gray stare that Noctis didn’t realize he was staring himself at until the glaive mentioned it.

“You sure you’re all there, Your Highness?” he asked. “You’re lookin’ at me kinda funny.”

“Yeah, no, I’m good. Promise.”

Noctis shook the last vestiges of delirium out of his head and straightened up, trying to find his future king demeanor. He didn’t find it. “Um… Thanks. For your help.”

“All part of the job. Anything else I can do for you, Your Highness?”

Noctis’s gaze fell a little bit as the man folded into the typical kingsglaive stance he’d grown so used to seeing around the Citadel. Something about the formality of it disheartened him. It was disingenuous, mandatory, made the glaive seem less like people and more like machines. It just served to remind Noctis that they were beneath him; something he’d never thought nor wished anyone else would think.

“No, that’ll be all,” he murmured because that’s all he was expected to say.

“You absolutely certain? You don’t want to issue a gag order for me not telling the whole glaive about your dramatic fall into my waiting arms.”

Noctis balked at the jest, blind-sided by it. Once the glaive snapped up into their stances, they were usually all business. But this man grinned at him, devilishly, and spun around on his heel to march on back to his duties. Noctis didn’t open his mouth in time to issue that order.

He dreaded hearing the glaive snickering behind his back for the next few days, and was stunned when he heard no such thing. They were either very good at keeping a secret, or they hadn’t been told. In which case, Noctis reminded himself to thank… to thank…

“Son of a bitch,” he cursed under his breath in the middle of the hallway.

He had no idea what that glaive’s name was.


End file.
